Avatar Tales
by stellarserenity
Summary: A collection of short stories, drabbles, and promptchallenge responses set in and surrounding characters from Avatar: the Last Airbender. Multiple Pairings.
1. 41st

**41st**

I will never forget the way the earth reared up before me, the rocks themselves lunging for my throat. Even in the midst of the violent volcanic eruptions of my homeland, I had never had reason to fear the ground beneath my feet. But this was not the Fire Nation, and the earth betrayed me.

We attacked at dawn. The sun's first rays surged through our veins and we thought we were gods among men. We were given the order. Our battle cries rang out from beneath the forest canopy.

'For the Fire Nation!'

And then we charged. My own euphoria lasted only moments.

The instant we cleared the thickets our mortality came crashing back to us. Rocks hurtled at my head and for the first time in my life I was glad of being short and skinny. Both men – no boys, my friends – either side of me were knocked flat in an instant. Larger and larger the boulders began to fall as all around me my fellows began to scream. I had to disable the catapults. If I could disable the catapults, we could reform and lead another charge. And so I rushed forward with what remained of my division.

There were no catapults. Only men clad in green.

And then, almost like a rolling ocean, the earth buckled beneath my feet. It rose up in front of me in one mammoth wave and crashed down over me and my comrades. And that is all I can recall of my first and last infantry battle.

I was not aware of much in the days following. I was not even aware of how I had managed to survive, or how badly I was injured, let alone how we had managed to win the battle when my division had been so utterly annihilated. So it is little wonder I was not aware that a world away, a boy lost his childhood and gained a scar in an effort to try and save my division. To save my friends. And me.

I was unaware of it until after the second coming of Sozin's comet. And by then, it was far too late to thank him.


	2. Lee

**Building Bridges**

Lee hefted the slop bucket over the fence and wrinkled his nose at the familiar smell. The scraps splattered into the trough and the pigs crowded around, jostling for a good position.

He turned his back, his eyes downcast against the setting sun. The pigs grunted and snorted behind him. His stomach growled. It would be his dinner time soon too.

As if on cue, his father's voice echoed from the house.

'Lee! Dinner!' Lee regarded his father. The man had returned from the front after a month, dejected. He had been unable to find even a trace rumour of what had happened to his older son's battalion. He had no training and had been too old to learn, so they had sent him home.

He leaned against the house now, shielding his eyes. But he was not looking at Lee. He was staring over the boy's shoulder. He had stiffened; his posture no longer slumped as it had been ever since he'd returned.

Lee turned, following his gaze, and was momentarily blinded. He raised a hand and shielded his eyes. A figure was riding down the track to their house. He rode an ostrich horse, and was slumped in the saddle as though exhausted. The coolie hat sent a thrill of recognition down his spine, and Lee too stiffened.

How dare he come back here?

But all at once his father was rushing past him, bereft exhaustion forgotten. He was taking the reins of the ostrich horse, leading it toward the house. He was shouting and laughing, calling Lee's mother and Lee himself. But Lee needed to hear only one name.

'Sensu! It's Sensu! He's come home!'

They sat about the table. Sensu shovelled food into his mouth. Lee's own plate remained untouched. He could not stop smiling and yet he could not bring himself to eat. If he ate, it was real and he wasn't sure he believed it yet. And if it wasn't real, he was not quite ready for reality.

'But I searched the front line for you,' his father was saying. 'There wasn't even a rumour.'

'They moved us out pretty quickly. They wouldn't tell us where they were taking us, or what for, but rumours, you know?' Sensu paused to chew a mouthful of rice. 'Eventually we found out they were planning to use us as decoys in an offensive on Ba Sing Se. You never would have found me Dad.' He smiled apologetically. Lee couldn't help but smile back.

'But we heard the city has fallen.' Sela said quietly. Glancing over at her, Lee saw her eyes were looking unnaturally shiny and her eye lashes were clumping together. She had already cried upon seeing Sensu and it didn't seem as though it would take much for her to start again. His father had an arm around her and was squeezing her shoulders gently.

'Yeah. The city had already been taken by the time we arrived.' Sensu looked down at his plate. Lee felt his stomach clench. The fall of Ba Sing Se was a devastating blow to the whole Earth Kingdom, and he had tried desperately to ignore the rumours of the Fire Nation Prince's involvement. But because the city had fallen, his brother had been spared. Guilt and gladness warred within him, effectively shutting out his appetite. He pushed his plate away.

'So how did you escape?' Gansu could not hide the proud smile. Lee forgot his warring emotions and smiled too. His brother had bested the Fire Nation.

'I didn't,' his brother admitted reluctantly. Lee's smile dropped. 'I was set loose.'

Silence greeted the statement. Never throughout the hundred years' war, had there been a tale of a captive being set free. The only such tales were of traitors who became spies. But a spy would never admit to having been set loose. Lee waited for Sensu to explain. There had to be an explanation.

'The Fire Nation Princess was in control of Ba Sing Se,' Sensu began. 'She put her brother in charge of dealing with prisoners and troublemakers in the city.' He sounded uncertain. Lee clenched his jaw. So the Prince had been there. Heat clawed at his insides. Try as he might, he could not bring himself to wish that Gow had killed the man. He had defended Lee twice, and the fact that Lee could not wish him dead only increased his hatred. He scowled down at his plate as Sensu continued.

'I was injured. My leg still isn't right. They were planning to use us as bait or decoys I think. Someone said it was against a Water Tribe rebellion in the bay south of Ba Sing Se, and that was the most believable story.' He chanced a half hearted grin at his family.

'Another prisoner said we were going to be used as hostages to force the Avatar to surrender. Someone even said the Avatar was with the Water Tribe ships. Crazy right?'

None of them smiled back at him. They all looked too stunned to speak.

'Anyway, the Prince inspected all the prisoners,' he paused. 'I hope you never meet him. His skin is ghostly pale, like all Fire Nation scum. And his eyes burn like fire. He looks half way mad all the time. And the scar, it's terrible. Covers half his face and he can hardly open his eye on that side. Rumour says his own father did it to him.' He glanced at his own father.

'Anyway, I don't know why he picked on me, but when he saw me he stopped and just stared.'

'Asked my name, and after… uh… some coaxing from one of the soldiers with him, I told him.' Sela winced, but he ignored it. They didn't need the details. 'Asked me where I was from. I thought he was going to find you all and torture you and I wouldn't tell him.' He couldn't help lifting his chin proudly.

'After a while he seemed to just get bored with us. He ordered his soldiers to split me off from the rest, put me in a prison car on a train and next thing I knew we were outside the wall. He told me he had no use for a weak injured pawn and told me to go home to my family, and never to trouble the Fire Nation again.' He was scowling deeply at his plate now. He couldn't understand how the Prince had even known he had a family. Of course he could have just assumed, but why would he even care?

'I would've been here sooner except I took a roundabout route to make sure I wasn't followed…'

Lee clenched his jaw, if only to keep his mouth from gaping. His brother's voice trailed off, recounting his journey home, how he had come upon the ostrich horse. Lee found his attention wandering. After a while he stood and asked to be excused.

It was dark out, but not cold. He walked through the sun flower fields, desperately trying to ignore memories of a moonlit night, learning to use dual broadswords with a wandering stranger.

He came upon the town square without realising his feet had been carrying him there. He approached the watch tower. It was deserted. Gow and his men never actually kept watch.

Lee knelt in the earth at the foot of the post to which he had been tied. He scrabbled in the loose dirt, digging. It took only minutes to find what he was looking for.

His fingers closed about the dirty leather sheath and he brushed it off as he pulled the knife out. He stared at the inscription, the pearl shining white in the moonlight.

The stranger had left it here in the dust for him, even as he walked away. He had returned later, curious. He'd found it there, and determined not to bring it into his home, he had buried it.

He swung the knife experimentally, the movements as awkward as they'd been with the broadswords.

He glared at the knife.

'I still hate you.' He muttered, even as he put the knife back in its scabbard and attached it to his waistband. He turned for home.

---

AN: There's a part two to this fic, but as of yet I'm unsatisfied with it. So it can wait.


	3. Home

**Home**

Wind bit at her face, and for a moment she missed the abandoned hair loops, but only a moment. Her nose stung and she was squinting against the cold, but she didn't raise her hood. She wanted to see everything.

The boat docked. That in itself was something of a feat. The captain was an exceptional navigator, and the winds had been on their side the whole journey. That was not so surprising. What was surprising was that there was actually a harbour for them to dock at. That was new. And she knew it was only the beginning.

An arm draped about her shoulder and squeezed gently. She stiffened, and did not turn to face him. He too had eyes only for the budding metropolis that spread before them.

It was still a peasant village when compared to the Fire Nation capitol, but in six months it had changed beyond recognition. Houses dotted a main street that opened out into a marketplace. Across the market square was a glittering fountain and behind that, towering in the distance, was a village meeting hall.

She could see it all with one sweep of her eye from where their boat nestled in the harbour, and yet she knew that somehow she had missed everything important.

'We're home.' Her brother spoke finally, his arm dropping from her shoulder.

'Yes.' Her voice was only just warmer than the air that bit their faces. His words brought back the memories, unbidden, of many painful arguments. The things he had said to her in the heat of the moment would not be easily forgotten.

'Home is where we belong.' She repeated his words back to him, as soft as he had said them loud, devoid of emotion as his had been full of rage. He reached out for her shoulder once more. She turned away and headed down the gangplank to meet her family.

There were countless hugs, kisses and embraces. It seemed the entire village and more had turned out to welcome them back. No, Katara had to remind herself. This group of women and children she knew all too well were not the entire village any more. Their family had grown.

At last, released from a stiff hug by Master Pakku, she glanced around. She had been right. Men she did not know were flitting about the docks, unloading Fire Nation spoils from the ship. Exuberant chatter filled the air as children glimpsed exotics they had never dreamed existed and men grumbled at the arrogance of the Fire Nation's charity.

Women she did not know hugged infants against them, their curious stares averting when she looked their way. There were babies in the village. There had not been a baby born in the village since before the men left for war. She had not been here to see them delivered. She didn't even know their mothers.

'Come on! Quickly! There is so much you must see before the celebration feast.'

'Aw Gran-Gran,' Sokka said from behind her. 'You didn't have to go throwing a feast just for us.' Many in the crowd didn't bother to hide their laughter.

'It's not for you. The Avatar has come to visit. Is that not cause to celebrate?' Sokka's face fell.

'Right. The Avatar. Of course.' He muttered.

As if on cue, a shadow passed over them and Appa mewled. Before anyone could blink, Aang had dropped out of the sky next to them, leaving Appa to land on a nearby hill. Toph, still onboard, cursed his abandoning her at the top of her lungs.

'Hi!' Ever cheerful, he grinned at the crowd. Many of the children who remembered him looked on with a mix of shyness and awe. Many who didn't giggled as he began toying with a puff of icy air.

Katara smiled, and was surprised she had to force it. What was wrong with her? She should be happy to be home.

Home was where she belonged.

They were given a whirlwind tour of the town, from their father's house to the healing huts, to the market to the main street. Finally, the gaggle of townsfolk following them the whole way, they were led up to the meeting hall for the feast. The whole town had really turned out this time, and Katara was shocked to see so many unfamiliar faces. She was even more shocked to realise that some of those unfamiliar faces were simply faces of people she knew, changed beyond recognition by the things they had endured.

Did she look like a stranger to them?

They were seated at the table of honour, so why did she feel uncomfortable with so many eyes on her? She thought she had been used to it by now. Stares had followed her cinnamon skin and chocolate hair everywhere in the Fire Nation, and those stares had been waiting to devour her. At least these were her people. So why would they not meet her gaze?

Sokka was chatting animatedly with several other young men. Katara had no trouble smiling this time. It had been too long since Sokka had had water tribe boys his own age to converse with. Aang and Toph were entertaining an enthralled group of children, and Katara caught more than one or two adults surreptitiously watching the bending display.

Many of these people, she had forgotten, had never seen anything but fire bend. Her own meagre efforts before she left the tribe did not count.

'Hey! Katara!' A young woman beckoned her over. Not one to be left out, Katara spared a glance for her friends, before heading over to the group of women. A few of them she recognised as girlhood friends slightly older than her. Others she didn't. They must be from the Northern Tribe.

'So, what's it like?' was the first question thrown her way.

'What's what like?' Katara prepared herself for the onslaught of questions, and wondered idly where to begin. How did one begin to describe the world to a group of women whose worlds were all ice? Even if some of them had moved from one ice city to another.

'What's it like being back home?' Katara tried hard not to feel disappointed.

'What do you think of the town? I'm sure it's nothing compared to the Northern Water Tribe, but you've got to admit, it's impressive for six months work, right?'

'Yeah,' Katara smiled. 'It's a definite improvement on tents and Sokka's watch tower.'

'I heard that!'

'We're hoping to build a water temple next, to celebrate bending and the spirit of the Avatar,' Katara nodded. 'But the men say they need more benders. You should speak to Tupeq about it.'

'Tupeq?' she did not recognise the name.

'Tiriaq's father. He's in charge of architecture,' Katara glanced at the girl indicated. She looked almost pale next to the bronzed girls Katara recognised. But then Yue had seemed pale to her too.

'Tupeq came with Master Pakku from the Northern Water Tribe,' another girl was saying. 'Tiriaq came too. She got engaged to Aputuk last week. Isn't that exciting?'

Katara knew Aputuk. He had been the youngest warrior before Sokka, and had only just been old enough to go to the front. He had been a good friend of Sokka's. Katara glanced at Tiriaq again.

She was younger than Katara by a year at least. She reminded Katara a lot of Yue, but then that was probably just because Katara knew they were both from the North. The sparkle of a betrothal necklace caught her eye.

The girls – no, women – had moved on to chat about something else. Katara wasn't sure what. Her gaze swept the group. A dozen or so blue gemstones gleamed back at her on blue ribbon chokers. Unconsciously, her own thumb rose to caress her necklace. She was most probably the only woman – no, girl – her age not married. She wasn't bothered by it. But she was bothered by the fact that she wasn't bothered by it.

Katara excused herself and made her way over to Aang and Toph. They were still entertaining an ever-growing crowd. Someone called out for Katara to perform, but she declined. She did not need the fact that she was the only female warrior in the room emphasised more than it already was. Several of the men were watching her surreptitiously, almost as though she were a threat. Neither her father nor Sokka seemed to have noticed.

The celebrations ran late, taking advantage of the long summer daylight. But Katara retired early. She was tired, she said, and had missed sleeping on furs. Her grandmother led her back to their house and showed her to her bedroom. She was almost too exhausted to relish having her own personal sleeping space.

But she couldn't sleep. She tossed and turned and poked at the fire but the room would never be warm enough. Eventually she gave up and let it die down, unwilling to look at the flames anymore.

Her family returned when dark eventually fell, and did not trouble to keep the noise down. It hardly mattered. She wasn't asleep. She had been thinking about her evening.

She wondered when betrothal gems had become so prevalent. When she had inherited her mother's, it had not mattered that she wore it everywhere. So seldom was a betrothal necklace given in the Southern Water Tribe, that there was absolutely no risk of anyone mistaking her for a married woman. Men were too busy providing, trying to survive, to spend time carving trinkets.

She knew that long ago, before the war, the Southern Tribe had been just as strict as the Northern, with social strata and arranged marriages to boot. But that had all fallen apart once the Fire Nation decimated their culture. There was just no point arranging political marriages when everyone was finding it equally difficult just to survive.

Katara had heard her fair share of romantic tales as a girl, of men who had come home from war after months of absence and proposed to their sweethearts. Or of women who had waited years in order to marry the men they loved.

Romantic marriages had fallen by the wayside after the most recent Fire Nation assault. With their tribe numbers under sixty, available women married available men and had children as soon as possible. There was no question of politics or love. Marriageable age gave way to child bearing age as their numbers dwindled further. No wonder Zuko had thought them savages when he first came upon them. All their cultural heritage had vanished.

She brushed that thought aside. She didn't want to think about him or men in general or marriage or children. She had been too young when the men had left for war, and after that it had seemed out of the question. So instead she had chosen the path of a warrior woman, and she would stick to that path. She had no regrets.

'It's not the same, is it?' Sokka's voice broke in on her thoughts. She rolled over and stared at him. He was leaning against the doorjamb of her room, his arms folded. He wasn't looking at her.

'No.' She rolled over once more, her back to him.

'It'll get better though,' she did not know whether she smiled at his optimism or her own bitterness. 'Give it time. It'll get better.'

'For you maybe. You belong here.'

'So do you. You're Water Tribe. You'll always belong here.'

'Home is where I belong,' she could almost hear the hitch in his breath as she repeated the words once more. She closed her eyes. 'I don't belong here anymore.'

She had left her home behind.

-x-

'I do not have time for all this pointless bickering!' Flames roared before him, and somewhere he felt a twinge of satisfaction as the noblemen before him cringed.

'That will be all for today!' He spat. They stared, their power plays of moments before forgotten. Then, one by one, they rose and left the audience chamber. The flames settled down and Zuko massaged his face with one hand. Someone chuckled off to his right.

'What's so funny?' He rose and descended from the throne, glaring at his Uncle.

'Oh nothing. I just thought you would have been pleased to have so many men vying for your favour.'

'It's not funny Uncle. The Fire Nation will never recover from one hundred years war if those men can't think of anything but their delusions of influence over me'

'On the contrary, Fire Lord. They appear to have considerable influence over your mood.'

Zuko growled and had to bite his tongue to stop himself breathing fire onto a priceless antique tapestry. He stalked down the hall, away from his Uncle.

'Where are you going?'

'To my chambers! I need rest.'

'You have a dinner appointment at sundown.' Another growl.

'Please tell me it isn't with one of the men I just insulted.'

'As you wish Fire Lord: It is not with one of the men you just insulted.'

'Don't humour me! Who is it?'

'Dong Mobao and most probably his family.' Zuko groaned.

'He'll spend the entire time trying to point out how well endowed his daughter is without outright saying it!'

'You do not know that.'

'Yes I do. It's the only thing that ever comes out of his mouth! Never mind that he actually dares to cut the girl off whenever I address her directly. Although I'm not surprised. She looks like she's never had to work or fight for anything, let alone think for herself.'

'She is a noble woman Fire Lord. It is not her place to work or fight.'

Zuko scowled. Not at what was actually said, but what was deliberately left unsaid.

'When did it get like this Uncle? I was only gone three years. I come back and the ruling class are fighting amongst themselves instead of actually ruling.'

'I am surprised you need to ask such a question. But if you still desire an answer, some would say it has always been like this and you were simply too young to notice.'

Another snarl, and he found himself at the end of the corridor. He went left, all too sharply, bashing his shoulder as he did so. He did not allow the luxury of a wince.

'Fire Lord Zuko, where are you going?'

'To my chambers!' he had said that already, hadn't he?

'Your chambers are this way.' Zuko hesitated only long enough to throw a glance over his shoulder. His Uncle was pointing down the right passage.

'To the turtle duck pond!' He shouted just as vehemently, and continued walking. He was eternally grateful his Uncle did not follow. He did not need the old man chuckling at the faint red tinge on his cheeks.

It was the third time he'd taken a wrong turn that week. Once he had been late for a council audience because he had somehow ended up in the kitchens. It had not mattered seeing as the Fire Lord was never late. Everyone else was simply early. But that did not stop it from irking Zuko. A Fire Lord should never get lost in his own palace. He had grown up here! How could it have possibly changed so much in the whole three years that he had been gone?

But change it had. His frequent unintentional detours were only the beginning.

He sat on the edge of the pond, cross legged. The gardens had been impeccably tended during his absence, and yet somehow he knew nobody had come here in the three years he had been away. He had come here at the first free moment, and found it a vision of perfection.

And yet it was a lifeless vision.

It had been his mother's favourite place. Nobody but he had come here since she disappeared. It was this place that had come to mind whenever he was taken by homesickness. It was this place that had symbolised everything he missed about home.

And when he found it in full summer bloom, yet inexplicably dead to him, he had known what he did not want to know.

He had fought for three long years to return home. He had struggled and bled and sweated the way he always had done. And finally, almost at the cost of everything he was, he had managed it. Only to find the place he returned to was not the place he had left. It had changed without him, or he without it. He wasn't sure which, and he was certain he did not wish to know.

He flopped back on the perfect lawn and stared angrily at the sky. Rain clouds hung low. He would get wet if he stayed out too long. A turtle duck quacked at his foot. He ignored it. The next instant there was more quacking and a splash. Water cascaded over his face in heavy drops and he snarled, sitting up sharply.

He glared at the water, registering too late that there had been no intention behind the watery assault. Only his reflection glared back at him. And he could not deny his disappointment.

He got up and headed for his rooms. He had to get ready for dinner.

It was a disaster. It was just as he had said. Despite the fact that the dinner itself was in lieu of an audience at a more appropriate time (schedules had not been permitting), Dong Mobao's entire family were present. Zuko was not surprised. Dong himself seemed to have no interest in discussing machinery and metalwork exports as Zuko had intended, and instead alternated between flattering Zuko and flattering his own daughter. Dong's wife giggled every time Zuko opened his mouth and the daughter in question said nothing, even when Zuko directed questions at her. If she was able, she would answer with a smile and a nod. If not, Dong would cut in.

Her father was not wrong to be proud. As he painstakingly pointed out, her skin was alabaster perfection. Her hair was darker and silkier than the black silk napkins that adorned the table, and her gold jewellery complimented her just as well as the napkins' trim. Zuko could not restrain a smile at the look on her parents' faces should they realise he was comparing their little china doll to a table napkin.

She was like his garden, he suddenly realised. Kept in a state of perfection while he fought his way back here, she was everything she should be, and just as he had remembered women of the Fire Nation. But somehow, now that she was within his grasp, her beauty was dead to him.

And he suddenly could not stand the sight of her.

'You'll excuse me.' he stood suddenly, cutting Dong off in his attempt to draw Zuko's attention to the large heirloom brooch which was dragging the neckline of his daughter's robe down almost tastelessly low.

'I have an urgent diplomatic matter to attend to. Enjoy the rest of your dinner.' They had all stood when he did, and he left the room. Moments later, his Uncle was at his elbow.

'Zuko!' No Fire Lord, no nephew. His Uncle must be angry. 'What are you doing? You will not make friends in the court by abandoning your engagements.'

'Don't talk to me about engagements! That's about the only thing Dong hasn't explicitly implied tonight!' Zuko hissed back. He stopped dead and glared as his Uncle chuckled.

'This is _not funny!_' Zuko snarled.

'Zuko, what is the matter with you?' The laughter had gone from his voice.

'There's nothing wrong with me!'

'You have not been this angry since…' It seemed his Uncle had figured out what was wrong with him.

'I fight for three years for my honour, for my throne, for the right to call all of this,' he gestured at the same tapestry he had almost fried earlier that day. 'Mine again. And now I have it. I wanted to go home, and now I have! Why am I not satisfied?'

He had not directed the question at his Uncle. He did not want his Uncle's wisdom. But the man would give it anyway.

'Home is where you belong.' Iroh said cryptically. Zuko narrowed his eyes.

'Are you implying that I don't belong here?' his voice was so soft, but his Uncle stood his ground.

'It is just a proverb Fire Lord. Are you implying that this is no longer your home?'

Too late Zuko realised that he had implied just that. His face twisted into a scowl, his anger turning inward. With a yell of frustration he stormed passed his Uncle.

'I have no time for your cryptic proverbs!'

For two hours he stormed about his rooms snatching things and dumping them about with little care for their well being. He did not want to think about any of it, and yet it would not be quelled any longer.

He had been angry, certainly. Angry that the water tribe boy would come between him and what he desired even after the war had ended. But he had understood. He knew all too well what it was like to wander without a home. He knew what it was like to miss the place of your birth, to feel that everywhere you went you were intruding, so obviously out of place by your very appearance. He would not be the one to force that pain upon her. And so he had let her go.

He had watched her sail away and he had done nothing to stop her. He hadn't known then that she was taking so much with her.

There was a knock at the door. He bid them enter. His Uncle stood in the doorway and stared at his hastily packed bag.

'Going somewhere?'

'Ready my ship.'

'As you wish, Fire Lord Zuko.'

-x-

They saw one another, as they so often had done, at a distance. He saw a hairy monster in a blue sea above him. She saw a metal monstrosity in the reflected blue below.

They met halfway, as they had been forced to do so often. The bison landed on the deck of the ship and she was off its back in moments. She did not run. Neither did he. Now that push came to shove, both were too proud to admit the reason for their being there.

'How…' he had to work very hard not to stutter. 'Was your home?' genuine concern, both for her and for the state of the village he had once terrorised, leaked through his regal air.

'I never got there.' She replied, and both could not help feeling they had misunderstood the other entirely. But it didn't matter because the next instance they were in one another's arms and everything was alright. No kisses or words were exchanged. There would be time for that later. In that moment they were just content to belong in the comfort of the other's embrace. Home.

---

AN: Inspired first by the notion that Katara and Zuko are alike in that their involvement in the war means that by the time they can return home, it probably won't be home anymore. I decided the idea was stupid though, until the pastor at my church spoke on home and belonging the very same day I thought of this idea. I'm not one for supernatural stuff, but I figured that was a sign if ever there was one.


	4. Think of Me

**Think of Me**

Zuko woke to the sound of rushing water. He smiled into his arm. It wasn't quite dawn. He would know the instant the sun rose. But she had often risen before him on the nights of the full moon, to bend in its pre-dawn power.

He thought he could almost tell her movements by the rhythm of the water's roar. Her figure danced about his mind's eye, broadening his smile.

There was a knock at the door. Zuko snapped his head up, the trade agreement he'd been looking over when he fell asleep still stuck to his cheek. He peeled it off and threw it back on the desk.

It was raining. He was in his study. And he was alone.

---

AN: Written for the Shuffled Challenge at the KataraZuko lj community. Prompt was 'Think of Me' from Phantom of the Opera, specifically the lyric 'think of me/think of me waking silent and resigned'.


	5. It Had to be You

**It Had to be You**

'Li!' Jet growled.

'Li!' Jin and Song exclaimed simultaneously.

'Li?' Katara scoffed.

Sokka, Aang, Iroh and Toph all began to snicker at Zuko's obvious discomfiture. Smellerbee and Longshot were equally amused as Song and Jin began to eye one another, obviously wondering how exactly the other was related to 'Li.'

'Uh…' Zuko managed.

'Sorry Jet, you've got the wrong guy. This is Zuko.' Katara said, far too sweetly for Sokka's liking.

'Zuko?! As in _Prince_ of the _Fire Nation_ Zuko?!' Jet snarled.

'Please tell me there's not more than one Zuko.' Toph muttered. Zuko glared.

'I knew it! You filthy Fire Nation scumbag! I knew you were a Firebender!' Jet stormed forward.

'No Jet. He's okay. Really.' Katara tried to interpose herself between them. Sokka was at a loss as to whether he should help his sister to make sure she didn't get hurt while preventing the fight, or simply sit back and watch two of his least favourite people in the world pummel one another senseless.

'Fire Nation? No Li. That's not right… Is it?' Jin was looking around Jet imploringly. Zuko did not meet her gaze. 'Wait… those lamps in the fountain square. You lit them using Fire bending!' She waited for him to deny it.

'What fountain square?' Katara turned her gaze on Zuko. He avoided her eyes too.

'You _are_ from the Fire Nation?!' Song's eyes were dinner plates. 'But I let you into my home, and fed you, and… and… _You stole my ostrich horse!_' Indignation laced her words as she stepped up behind Jet and Jin to glare at Zuko.

'You stole her ostrich horse?' Katara turned to face Zuko, no longer preventing Jet from reaching him.

'She gave you food and a place to stay and you stole her ostrich horse? What on earth possessed you to do that?' He couldn't tell if she was amused or angry, and was equally unsure which he wanted it to be.

'I… Uh… I learned it from you, scroll thief.' He crossed his arms, trying for amused.

Wrong choice.

'That waterbending scroll was stolen from a _waterbender_. One of _my_ people. I was simply reclaiming what was mine. You can't just go around stealing innocent people's ostrich horses!' Definitely angry now. He probably shouldn't have reminded her of the scroll incident. It wasn't one of the most pleasant memories they shared.

'Well, I'm Prince of the Fire Nation,' he spat back. 'And in case you hadn't noticed, they pretty much own the world. So maybe _I_ was simply reclaiming what's mine too!'

'You spoilt Fire Nation bigot!'

'Backwards Water Tribe peasant!'

There was a slap, and in a blur of motion, Katara retracted her water whip.

Aang and Sokka slapped their foreheads simultaneously. Toph just grinned.

Completely ignoring the steam and smoke now engulfing the two combatants, she turned to the newcomers and said 'Would you like some tea? We're going to be here for a while.'

---

AN: Second song in my Shuffle Challenge playlist: It Had to be You by Michael Buble. Specific lyric: 'Some others I've seen/might never be mean/might never be cross/try to be boss/but they wouldn't do.'


	6. Mr Brightside

**Mr Brightside**

'What did you talk about?' was one of the first things I said to her once I could speak again.

'What?' Immediately she was hovering over me, checking my pulse, breathing and burns.

'You and Zuko. In the cave, what did you talk about?'

'Nothing important.' She looked away.

'You said you thought he'd changed,' talking hurt. But I had to know. 'What did he say?'

'It doesn't matter now. He was probably lying about all of it. Rest now. I'll have some soup for you when you wake up.' She was smiling down at me. Her hand, coated in water, soothed my brow. My eyes drifted closed.

The image of Katara and Zuko standing impossibly close together burned behind my eyelids. And then the nightmares came.

---

AN: Third song in the KataraZuko Shuffle Challenge: Mr Brightside by The Killers. Too easy. The whole song practically screams wAangst.


	7. Colours of the Wind

**Colours of the Wind**

'Stop. Stop! STOP!' She shouted it for the umpteenth time that day, her hands on her hips. He glared at her and dropped his arms. The flaming whips he had been using to mimic her movements dissipated in a puff of smoke.

'What?!' he spat. His fuse, always short, was now burning dangerously low. If she criticised him just one more time he'd…

'You're doing it again.'

'Doing _what_ again?'

'Trying to control it.' She said it perfectly brightly, her frustration of moments before gone.

'In case you hadn't noticed, I'm a firebender. Fire is for me to control. Just because the water tribes let their element rule over them, rather than the other way around…'

'Oh shut up,' thank goodness she had stopped smiling. It made his stomach do flips. 'The elements aren't just dead things for you to control. They have their own spirits governing and abiding in them.'

'Fire's different.' He folded his arms, insistent.

'No it's not. You wanted to learn from other types of bending so shut up and learn! You aren't the Prince of Fire itself you know. You're at best its humble guide. So stop trying to beat it into submission like you do everything else, and start guiding!'

Without so much as a warning she was behind him, her toes pressed against his bare heels, her hands clamped about his wrists. And before he could throw her off, she was moving him through the stances.

They were moves he had seen on the many occasions he'd opposed her. They were moves he had spent the entire afternoon trying to perfect. But only in that instant where her hands guided his, her feet nudging his into position, did he share the complete fluidity which came so naturally to her.

'You're not bending.' Heat rose to his face as she spoke into his shoulder blade. She was not tall enough to reach his ear. They had stopped moving, but she had not released her hold.

'Again,' he cleared his throat. His voice had _not_ just croaked. 'Once more.'

As they began to move, fire flowed effortlessly through his veins.

---

AN: Song four in the KataraZuko Shuffle Challenge: Colour of the Wind, from Disney's Pocahontas. It's been done. And now I've redone it. Yay!


	8. Living on a Prayer

**Living on a Prayer**

'Stay with me!' He roared, one hand seizing her wrist and drawing her back to him. The other swung his sword in an arc at an oncoming soldier, flame in its wake.

'I'm trying!' she yelled back. Frozen daggers were the only weapon she had left. They were the only thing that could not be evaporated the instant they touched the enemy's flame.

The full moon was no match for Sozin's comet, blazing across the night sky. The fire of every soldier, and even of Zuko himself, burned blue on the palace steps. If they were separated, they would die, she first, and he soon after. They would be engulfed in the unnaturally powerful flames.

There was no time to think or feel. There was no Avatar. She had no brother. There was no Toph and no Iroh. There was no time. There was only Zuko at her back and enemies at her front and heat and icy daggers in between.

'Stay with me!' he yelled as he charged again. She back pedalled with him, daggers flying.

'I'm here!'

---

AN: KataraZuko Shuffle Challenge: Living on a Prayer by Bon Jovi. Specific lyric: 'You live for the fight/when it's all that you've got/Oh we're half way there.'


	9. Only the Good Die Young

**Only the Good Die Young**

'You will be executed tomorrow at sunrise.' Was all she said to the crumpled blue figure. She ignored the other occupant of the dungeons, turned on her heel, and left.

Katara tried very hard not to sob, and found it disconcertingly easy. The tears were stuck in her throat, choking and refusing to budge. She wrapped her arms around her knees and rocked back and forth, oblivious to the golden eyes watching her.

There had been so much blood. She didn't know such small bodies could hold so much blood. But she had felt it, every last drop. Because she was a waterbender, and because water was so much a part of blood, she had felt it seeping from her friends, her family. She had felt it tremor in response to her anguish. She had felt every last drop as it swirled with her bending water, the rusted spirals lashing at all the firebenders around her. She had fought on alone with blood and tears.

And now she would die alone.

Something shifted off to her right. Her head snapped about and she met the amber gaze. Her eyes widened.

'Zuko.' She choked. A feeling of déjà vu stole over her and she scowled.

She had not seen him since Ba Sing Se. She had thought him dead. Part of her hoped he wasn't. Death was too kind a fate for him. Apparently Azula agreed.

'This is all your fault!' she spat without conviction. She couldn't feel anything. Even the aching sob in her throat was dissipating, leaving her empty.

He broke their gaze. Had he just nodded? He was staring at the ground. Defeated was the only word she could think of to describe his posture.

She blanched. How long had he been down here? How long had it taken before this cell broke his spirit? She wanted him to rage and scream at her, so that she could rage and scream back. Anything to feel _something_ in what were to be her last hours on this earth. But he looked away, and she felt nothing.

'Wasn't it good enough that you chased us for months? Wasn't it good enough that you kidnapped Aang and me over and over again? You just had to… to…' she could not admit that she had almost trusted him in that cave. 'Had to try and kill him! Well are you happy now? He's dead! And it's all your fault!' Unbidden, the lump rose in her throat once more. The ache of it was such a relief, and she did not try to swallow it down.

His gaze flicked up to meet hers once more. But he did not deny her accusations.

'He'll be reborn into the Water Tribe.' Was he trying to reassure her? It didn't work.

'No he won't!' She was on her feet without realising it, the rage and fear and unbearable sorrow that had been hovering just beyond her comprehension suddenly burst forth and she didn't care that she spat when she spoke. She didn't care that she was stamping over to him. Because she could feel for the first time since she had cut down her enemies using the blood of her friends and in a few more hours she was going to die.

'Aang will never be reborn! That's all he ever was to you, was the Avatar! But he was Aang, my friend! He was a person too! And he will never ever come back!'

She whirled away from him and almost ran into the opposite wall. She didn't care. She didn't care that in a few hours she would die. She didn't care that the last thing she would feel would be hate and anger and fear and sorrow. She didn't care because there was nothing left to care for. Hot tears streamed down her face as she beat her fists against the wall.

At last, exhausted, she slithered down it to crouch in a heap. Then the sobbing came.

'Stop crying.' As always, it was a command.

He watched her, sitting in a heap, her back to him. Her hand was still splayed against the wall and she hid her face. But she could not hide the sobs. He didn't know what to do. Was there any point in comforting the condemned?

'Stop crying!' His stomach twisted. He had been alone so long. He didn't mind the quiet. But this was so much worse. The sound was annoying and it made him remember their time in that cave, when they had come so close to an understanding. It almost hurt.

'I said stop crying!' He was on his feet, striding toward her. He seized her shoulder and spun her around. Her eyes were squeezed shut, as though they would hold her sobs inside.

'Stop it!' he yelled and shook her, kneeling before her. The sobbing did not stop, but she turned her gaze up at him.

'Please.' He muttered, his hold loosening on her shoulders.

The next moment she had buried her face in his tunic, her fingers digging into his own shoulders in mimicry of his hold a moment before. She sobbed harder than ever, but at least the sound was muted. She was most definitely in shock, he thought idly. Even as a last resort, she should not be turning to him for comfort.

He sat for a moment, unsure what to do. He should push her away. But, as though by rote, his arms rose and began patting her back. Her grip in his shoulders loosened and, glad to be rid of the pain, he warmed his hands a little.

And tensed when her hands snaked about his waist. He breathed and forced himself to relax. She was insane, hysterical and in shock and in a few hours she'd be dead. What did it matter if she hugged him?

'I don't want to die,' she sniffled into his tunic. And then, even through her sobbing, she began to laugh. 'Even when everything I care about has been killed in front of me. Even when I've done the most horrible things and there's nothing left to live for, I don't want to die.'

He shushed her, trying to sound gentle. In truth he just wanted her to be quiet, and possibly to let go of him. But she didn't.

He didn't know when she fell asleep, just that she got heavier and heavier until he had to lean back on one hand to stay sitting up. Her silence would have been a welcome relief had her arms not still been cinched about his waist.

He was not aware he had fallen asleep until his head hit the floor. He cursed. His arm had given way as he relaxed, and he'd fallen. His head throbbed and he muttered more oaths under his breath.

Only when he was done did he realise her rhythmic breathing had stopped. He looked down at her. She was staring up at him.

Her face was too close. His head hurt. She was still half lying on him. How long had they been sleeping? Was it close to sunrise? She was far too close. He could feel her breathing. Why was she looking at him like that? Her eyes were shimmering, but not with tears. Had they always been so blue? Her arms were still around his waist. One of his hands was still on her back. Why couldn't he breathe?

Their lips met without him knowing who had closed the distance. It was a clammy kiss, wet with her tears and warm with his fire, but as clumsy as two lost children. It was wrong. It didn't feel right to him, and he knew when she drew back that it hadn't felt right to her either. But of all the wrongs that had been committed that day, this was the least of them. And so, hesitating only a moment, he kissed her again.

There was a shriek of metal-on-metal, and they broke apart. He was on his feet and in a bending stance. She was still sitting on the floor.

'What are you doing?'

'Get up.' She looked at him quizzically.

'They're coming for me.' The implication was clear; he should stay out of it.

'We'll go together.' He was terse once more, not looking at her. Neither would admit it, but live or die, they did not want to go through it alone. They didn't need to admit it. It had been obvious the moment their lips met.

'We can't win.' Already she was in a waterbending stance, her actions belying her words. She had no water, but it hardly mattered. Her enemies' blood would do.

'Never give up without a fight.'

The door opened.

---

AN: My last entry for the KataraZuko Shuffle Challenge: Only the Good Die Young, by Billy Joel. Prompted by the title only, as the feel of the song and the mood of this fic could not be more different. It's creepy for a number of reasons. First because it's dark. Second because I love it because it's dark. Third because the characters are OOC and choppy. But you know, I'm hoping you'll forgive them for that because if I was stuck in solitary or was about to be executed, I probably wouldn't act like myself either.


End file.
